Tag: dogs

Dog-proofing the garden area

I’ve put this off far too long. With destructo-dog I absolutely have to have a fenced garden area. I’m not the most enthusiastic gardener, but I do have a bunch of seeds started, some of which (squash) will require substantial space.

fence-1

Using what I had at the chacra, I cut posts to have 80 cm exposed. I had a roll of 120 cm fence wire already, so I figured I take off the top 40 cm and double it when I ran out of the roll.

fence-2

It was pretty close — 2 meters shy! Had I not made a circular compost bin in the country earlier with the fencing, it would have worked out almost exactly right.

fence-3
Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise.

Benji, meanwhile, decided this was a nice place to hang out. No more. I trimmed the top 40 cm, leaving spikes, and built a gate. It’s not a pretty fence, and it’s not particularly well made, but it doesn’t have to be. It just has to keep out the dog and cat.

No excuse now.

Ain’t it good to know…

Wretched weather today. I missed a window or two of almost-not-rainy weather to walk the dog, and also our masseur was here in the afternoon, despite wind and rain, on his moto with massage table attached. Because of the “strong” (but falling) Untied Snakes dollar, our hour-long+ $37 massage now is  USD 32-33.

With evening approaching, and insufficient wine on hand, it was necessary to visit Tienda Inglesa. When we got back, I asked if Benji had howled as he has tended to do in his FOMO moments when I leave without him. No, Susan said, it was quite cute. He just nuzzled your slipper (house shoes I wear all day).

Walking into my office, I saw the shoe in the middle of the floor; returned to our shoe rack to get the other so I could put them on. Oh, it wasn’t there.

where the dog thinks my shoe should be

… you’ve got a friend?

My Saturday in UY

We really appreciate the opportunity, every other week, to buy fresh-as-you-can-get-it organic produce at bargain prices. Here Ricardo has just harvested a variety of acelga (Swiss chard) for us. Acelga is arguably the vegetable in Uruguay — if you order ravioli or canelones con verduras in a restaurant the verduras will be acelga. You can get it year-round. It took us a year or two to realize this was our desirable spinach substitute, since spinach is only occasionally available. And needs much more washing.

Feria Organica near Atlántida, Uruguay

So then off to our chacra nearby where the in-places knee-high grass needed cutting. A couple of wild ducks flew into our tajamar, but decided the noise of the lawn mower was offensive, and left. I had seen one on my previous trip. Other posts about the pond we created. It’s an interesting experiment in “letting nature do its thing.”

Wild ducks in our pond, Uruguay

Then there was the twice-monthly (because “bimonthly” can mean either twice a month or every two month; thanks English language) Atlántida-area English-speakers’ get together. 23 people showed up. Many lively (and funny!) discussions. Nationalities included Uruguay, US, Canada, England, Holland, and Germany. On other occasions we’ve had South Africans, Argentines, and no doubt others I can’t think of right now.

And this Saturday Occupy Couch performance art.

benji-couch

The jacketed dog

A couple months ago, we approached an older dog, complete with dog jacket (almost an obsession in Uruguay). Benji was eager to engage the target. I told him, no, we don’t hassle older dogs, but it turned out to be young, and very eager to play, and though loose, more or less inclined to stay within the borders of its large yard.

I say its large yard — I actually have no idea even now to what house it belongs. Its owner cares enough to worry about him being warm, but not about being loose and possibly hit by a car. Go figure.

We saw him the other day, and the two chased each other around that yard. The little guy has a tighter turning radius, so it’s not as one-sided a chase as might appear. However, when I noticed Benji grabbing the little guy by his jacket, I decided enough is enough,put Benji on the leash, and continued toward the beach.

The little guy followed. So, next thing I know, he’s followed Benji into the water (Benji loves it when I throw sticks for him, and loves to splash around in the water).

dog-jacket-1

Something in me says that a jacket designed to keep the dog warm in the air might have the opposite effect in the water. Maybe not. It’s probably polyester.

dog-jacket-2

And with all the running, it probably makes no difference. But it’s winter here; this was a t-shirt/thin hoodie/windbreaker day. Not for the first time, I had to ask myself, is this dog in the water with its jacket my problem? Is it my responsibility?

Answer: absolutely not.

A block shy of our exit from the beach, little dog turned tail and headed home.

We’ll see him again.

Truck gets hit by dog

Yes, you read that right.

Benji disappeared into a yard, the second half of which, facing the potholed dirt road, has tall bushes. I couldn’t see him, but, leash in hand, was watching for movement through the bushes. Also monitoring the aging Doguita, who sensibly stays to the side of the road when a vehicle, such as a 50-year-old gardner’s pickup, lumbers toward us.

Sure enough, with impeccable timing and predictable lack of vector calculation, Benji comes blasting blind out of the yard and BAM! smacks into the truck. I thought he hit the bumper. Maybe he hit the fender. Anyway, an exceptionally loud noise. The driver stops, rolls down the window and I say in Spanish “They never learn.” Had I been a little quicker, I might have asked if his truck was OK. Whatever the look on my face, it must have been amusing. He smiles, says something, drives off with his workers. No big deal.

I think I detect a limp, but no, within 30 seconds Benji is on to the next house, yapping at the dogs behind the fence and running up and down with them, tails wagging.

(N.B.: I am careful to keep him on the leash where I know fast traffic is possible.)

banji-tennis-ball

Here’s the little darlin’ earlier today, once again delivering a destroyed tennis ball for me to kick 3 meters (max) from where I sit at my computer so he can chase it.

 

 

Because puppy.

We had a problem. When we tried to sit on the couch after dinner to read, Benji would get between us and stretch out. Which amounted to being in both of our laps. At the same time.

So wife said, let’s replace wicker chairs in the bay window with small couch from upstairs. And it worked. She could sit there — reading material illuminated by an amazing 5-watt LED ceiling bulb — while I sat nearby on the couch, its empty two-thirds occupied by puppy.

Tonight, puppy Tetris.

image

FWIW: we bought used furniture and reupholstered thinking rental, since we had another house at the time. Didn’t happen. Stuff’s ugly. Whatever.

 

 

Dog gone.

From Syd this afternoon:

Was not there today.  The tent was there, looking worse for wear.  Definitely had not had a human sleeping in it last night, but perhaps a dog.  The chain was still there.  The bowl was also gone.

doggone

So, I guess the adage to “leave the campsite cleaner than you found it” also hasn’t permeated the Uruguayan psyche, but this appears to be an encouraging development.

Why do people do this?

abandoned-dog

My routine now includes afternoon walks with my goofy dog and Syd and his five dogs in who-know-who-owns-it 170 hectares/500 acres of scrub in Villa Argentina north.

Yesterday, we heard barking in the middle of it. Where barking shouldn’t be. We changed our return path to pass by again, but heard no more barking.

Today, we heard the barking again, and bushwhacked to find a scared, barking dog, chained to a tree. But with a little plastic bag of dog food. But also with a large bowl, presumably for water, overturned.

With six dogs in tow, we made little progress in connecting. Syd returned to leave it water.

Being Easter week, probably best if it stays there: our favorite vet in the campo is fully booked with pets until Monday.

Previously, Syd discovered the remains of a dog similarly chained, and left to die (it could have chewed through a rope). But there’s evidence of some care here. But still a chain. I’m not racing to judgment.

We’ll do what we can.